Two Of A Kind But Not Really
by emmareden
Summary: The story of Jessica Dilaurentis and Mary Drake through the ages until Jessica's death.


**A/N: Sort of based on the same timeline/story as what's presented in New Beginnings. This is tragic. You've been warned. Enjoy!**

Everyone always liked Jessica better. When I was little, I didn't understand. After all, weren't we the same? As I grew up, I came to realise we were only the same in looks. Jessica changed when people came into the room. It's like she had a switch. She was all smiles and politeness and bouncy. I wasn't bouncy. She was always the centre of attention. People idolised Jessica. Even I idolised Jessica.

I didn't have friends. Sometimes Jessica let me hang out with her and her friends but even that got less and less as we grew older. I didn't mind. I liked my own company.

Yeah, everyone always liked Jessica better. Even me.

I guess that's why Jessica had friends invite her to a party that night. Why she called me begging to help her with the baby. First, she said the baby was sick but by the time I got there, she said he'd calmed down. He'd fallen asleep and I shouldn't interrupt his peaceful slumber. I believed her.

Everyone always believed Jessica.

"So, think you can take over?" Jessica asked, "Mandy's parents are going out of town and the others' finally talked her into having a party. I have to go!" she widened her eyes just like she did whenever she asked mom and dad for anything, "Puh-lease, Mary!"

I nodded, "Sure, of course."

She wrapped her arms around me, "Thanks, sis!" she exclaimed, "Love you."

I believed her then. Half hour later, I wasn't so sure.

* * *

My parents didn't visit me. They didn't have daughters anymore. They just had one; Jessica.

Radley was a horrible place. I didn't think I'd ever get used to it but I kind of did over the years. It helped when they finally stopped questioning me about little Teddy Carver's death. They stopped talking to me at all. They came into my room, handed me my medication, checked my mouth that I'd taken it and locked the door. It was a prison in those days.

I had books. All I had was books. And Jessica.

She visited me at first. I was so excited, I thought she was going to tell everyone the truth. That I was going to be free and be back with my family. But she never told anyone.

"You'll get out soon," she'd say, "They can't keep you in here forever."

"Can't you tell them?" I'd beg, "Please, Jess, I hate it in here. You know, I never hurt the Carver baby. I'd never hurt a baby. I'd never hurt anyone."

She took a step back, "I can't Mary," she said, the radiating smile vanished from the face of a sister I'd once loved, once admired, "I just got into college. I'm going to study. And I met a man. He's handsome and wealthy and kind."

"But you're the only that can – "

"Mary," her tone was harsh, "Don't you see? I have a life to look forward to. You don't have anything in the real world anymore. You're nothing."

I flinched at the cruelty of her words.

She stepped forward and that was the first time I was really, truly scared of my twin sister.

I didn't see her for years after that.

* * *

My life was one big, mundane routine. Pills. Food. Water.

As the years went on, they let us out of our rooms a little. To socialise. I wasn't much interested in socialising. I'd never had friends, that wasn't what bothered me. It was my family I missed the most. I missed how Jessica and I used to be. I couldn't understand how she had changed.

There was this orderly though, who worked on the ward. He suddenly began to pay me a lot of attention. I'd never had that kind of attention. It was always Jessica who the boys liked. I liked having that attention. But the first time hurt so much I told him to stop. He didn't stop. He never stopped.

I didn't tell anyone. Nobody ever believed me anyway.

He was the first but certainly not the last. They say the doctors, the psychiatrists, the orderly's; they're all meant to help. They don't help.

* * *

I was barely twenty when mom and dad got into the car crash. Instant death. I hadn't seen them in almost five years. They changed my primary carer to Jessica. That meant she made all my medical decisions because I was classified as unfit to do so. That made me nervous.

I thought maybe she wasn't completely heartless because the doctors' let me out for my parents' funerals. I got a whole weekend at the family home. Pity most of the family was gone. I wasn't allowed to leave my room but after being in Radley for five years, being in a new room (Jessica had taken over ours) was like breathing fresh air. There were books and family photos. Smiling family photo's. Art on the walls. Jewellery boxes that Jessica said I wasn't allowed to touch. She said I had to ask if I wanted water or food.

She liked the control. I could see it on her face every time I did what I was told. She revelled in it. She must have thought I was obedient she left me at home alone. I think she had a date.

I sat in my room, on my bed. I stared at the closed door. I could feel the anger surging through my body, from one limb to the other. It was Jessica's fault I was in that place. The one weekend I got out, she didn't even want to spend any time with me. Then I got mad at myself. Why do I care? I thought. I don't need her. But old habits are hard to break.

I walked over to the door, hoping to pull the door open triumphantly. But the door jarred. She'd locked it. I don't know why I was so surprised. Like I said, she revelled in the control.

That only enflamed my anger and I stomped over to the window, yanking it open. Sure, it was a bit of a climb but it was my first act of independence. So I swung a leg and the window.

That was the night I met Peter Hastings. He wasn't like the orderly, or the doctor. He had kind eyes and he asked questions about me. Not so he could hand out pills or use it against me, but because he was genuinely curious. About me! I had to say I was in from out of town. I wasn't going to say I was from Radley. It seemed that Jessica had erased me from Drake history.

He wasn't rough like the others. He was gentle. He even asked me 'is this okay?' I hadn't heard that question in a long time. I wished I could stay with him on the outside. At least I had a good memory to think about whilst I stared at brick walls in Radley.

* * *

It was meant to be a secret. I'd been so careful, climbing back into my room before Jessica ever got home. But Peter and I, we hadn't been careful enough.

"Can't you just get rid of it?"

I heard her asking the doctor. She was mad. Really, really mad. It was too late in the pregnancy for an abortion. I hadn't known. I thought I was just sick because of the new medications they'd been trialling on me.

"I want to stop the medication. I read it can hurt the baby," I said bravely, standing up to Jessica for the first time, well, ever.

Jessica rolled her eyes, "You can't stop the medication. You'll go crazy," she paused before smirking, "More crazy."

"I'm not crazy and you know that!" I said through gritted teeth.

She stepped forward. She really had the whole invading your personal space to intimidate you thing down. Even though we were the same height, she made me feel very, very small.

"You are crazy," she said quietly, "And I'm in charge of your medical care. You're going to take your medication and you're going to have this baby. I'll take care of it."

"You?" I was in despair, "You're not taking my baby!" I placed my hands over my belly protectively.

"Well, you're hardly fit to be a mother," Jessica sneered, "And this is hardly the place for a child to be raised."

My eyes welled up, "Then let me out. Please. I can be a good mother."

"The Carver's would disagree," Jessica said.

"That's not fair! You're the one that hurt that little baby!" I cried, "Please, Jessica. I'll be good. I can take my medication or anything you want. Just let me out to take care of my little baby. I'll move far away if you want so nobody knows. Or I'll stay close so you can keep an eye on me. Just please, let me raise this baby."

"I have enough to do without having to worry about you," Jessica replied, "A baby will be far easier to deal with than your antics."

"But I didn't do anything – "

That was when she slapped me. It hurt almost as much as her words.

* * *

The labour was horrible. They wouldn't give me any pain medication and it took so long that eventually, they just cut my stomach open and ripped the baby from me. All small and gooey and pink. I wanted to hold him. But they took him away. I never even got to see his eyes open. I never even got to hold my precious baby in my arms.

* * *

As if I hadn't been through enough, she tried to punish me more with the electroshock therapy. I was sad. I'd had my baby stolen from me, of course I was a bit low! She signed the forms like she was signing for another credit card. The really sick thing came next. She watched.

They put a mouthguard in my mouth. Still, I felt like my teeth were going to be crushed or split straight through my gums. I can't explain the pain. It was a volcano erupting inside my head. It was lightening going all the way through my body. My body was out of my control. My life was out of my control.

My body shook and shook for minutes on end. The breath was snatched from my chest.

The recovery didn't end in that room. For weeks, my memory was fuzzy. I couldn't remember if I'd had my medication. I didn't know the time of day or even the month it was sometimes. I couldn't concentrate on my books.

She signed for it over and over again. And every time – she stood there and watched with the slightest hint of a smirk on her face. She liked it.

* * *

I learnt to be on my best behaviour. I didn't feel better. I felt awful every single day. I needed to see my baby boy. Times changed and things got… slightly better. I acted better. I even became helpful to the staff. I practised smiling in the bathroom mirrors.

Eventually, they fell for it. I got another weekend leave.

Jessica was mad. She tried to fight it but the staff, they weren't as horrible as they'd once been. She was forced.

To my dismay, when I arrived at the family home, my baby wasn't there.

"Kenneth has taken him to see his parents," Jessica explained, "They're ill. They wanted to see him before…"

"Liar!" I'd said, outraged, "You're keeping him from me!"

"Of course I am," Jessica didn't bother to deny it, "He's an angel, Mary. I don't want you to confuse him."

"You're a horrible person," I wept, "What happened to you?"

"Oh, harden up," she rolled her eyes, "You've always been far too emotional."

"I can't believe I ever loved you," I cried, "You're a monster. If I were religious, I'd say you were the devil."

"I'm not the one that hurt little Teddy now, am I?" Jessica's voice was low, "You are."

I shook my head aggressively, "No! You hurt him. You lied, you – "

Her hand lay on my shoulder, "Now, now," she smiled, "You're delusional, Mary. You hurt that little baby. You like to try to blame it on me to dissuade your guilt, but we both know the truth. You killed that baby."

My eyes widened. The crazy thing is I almost believed her. Without another word, I fled.

* * *

I was sad to see Peter was married now. He still had those kind eyes and that charming smile. He ushered me out of earshot of his wife and agreed to meet me later. He even wiped the tears from my eyes.

We only lay beside each other for a while. His arms around me. It felt safe. The safest I'd felt in years. I was still so angry at Jessica. Distraught. I wished I could tell him about the baby but I was so scared of what Jessica would do if I did. I didn't know how she could punish me anymore than she already had, but I knew she'd find a way. She really was a monster.

It always felt better with Peter than any other man. I don't know why. I think maybe I loved him. We did it again and again. I had a lot of energy and by the sounds of it, he'd had a lot of stress. We spent the next night together too and had a round of goodbye sex. I was leaving town, I said again, and I didn't know when I'd be back.

He'd known the truth, even then. But I didn't know that.

* * *

I cried and cried when I realised it had happened again. We'd been so careful this time. Accidents happen, the nurse said.

I was terrified of them telling Jessica. I begged them not to. I could raise the baby in here. It wasn't so bad. The little baby would have a loving mother. I was getting better. Soon, they could let me out and I'd have a little family all my own.

They told Jessica. She was fuming. She smiled at the staff and closed my room door. The smile was gone. I shrunk back on my bed, hands over my stomach.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," I said honestly, "We were careful."

It was then I noticed her belly. She was pregnant too.

"You're… pregnant," I whispered.

"Yes and I can't take on another child," Jessica hissed.

Stupidly, I hoped this meant I could keep this baby.

"I'll give it to the father," she shook her head at the inconvenience, "And I'll make sure you stay in here to rot, Mary. All you ever do is cause me problems."

"But I'm getting better!" I protested, "They know I'm getting better. You can't keep me in here forever."

Jessica smirked, "We'll see if they think you're getting better when I tell them all about how you tried to overdose on your last weekend visit."

I stood up, "I did not! That's a lie!"

Jessica shrugged, "Who do you think they're going to believe? The nut or the patient, caring sister? Maybe some more electroshock therapy will help," she winked and turned to the door.

She was right. Everyone always believed Jessica.

* * *

Finally, I breathed in the fresh air of the outside. I was out. For good. Even Jessica's signature couldn't keep me locked up forever. But the only way I got out was to agree I'd never go to Rosewood. Never try to see my baby's. If I did… well, Jessica always found a way.

Still, I thought about them every day. A little boy and a little girl. Did they even know each other? Know they were related? Were they happy? My babies. I thought it would drive me insane. Irony. I couldn't just start a new life somewhere else and forget I had two children out in the world.

I broke my promise. I know I did.

My baby boy was dead, Jessica said. She wouldn't even tell me how he had died. I didn't understand how a young, healthy boy dies. I begged her and all she did was laugh at my tears. She told me I had no right to be upset, that Charles was her child, not mine.

She told me if I tried to look for the other child, she'd do more than make me pay for it. She'd make the child pay too.

Life was a blur. I did a lot of nothing and time seemed to drag by. I was so lonely my chest ached. I thought about my children every single day. I thought that was just something people say on television or in books but I learnt it wasn't. I loved them. I didn't know them but I loved them.

One day, the letter finally came. It was short and to the point.

 _Jessica's dead. Come back – P.H._


End file.
